


Alliteration

by writesstuff



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, M/M, angerismyanchor, hairstylist!stiles, idek, is an rp blog and the ooc asked for this from someone omg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-12
Updated: 2012-09-12
Packaged: 2017-11-14 02:11:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writesstuff/pseuds/writesstuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is an exec guy who likes to go to Stiles’ family owned salon, because he likes Stiles, and Stiles is an awesome stylist/hair washer. Confusion, ice cream, and alliterations ahoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alliteration

**Author's Note:**

> So blunder in the name. I meant alliterations, but I was half asleep posting this and agh I'm dumb I know

Derek ran a hand over his hair and felt a smirk play on his lips. He needs another trim, he thinks. No use having unruly hair in his profession, after all. Pulling up his PA’s number, he texts her to tell her to schedule him an appointment at Salon Stilinski.

Salon  _Stilinski_. What kind of name was Stilinski? 

He digresses. Erica texts back his time—later that day—and sends an extra text asking him if he’s  _super excited to get his hair washed_  and damnit, he really shouldn’t have told her anything about why he goes to the place he does.

Truth was, he really enjoyed his stylist. Stiles.

He has to wonder if everything is a freaking alliteration with Stiles. Stiles Stilinski, who is a stylist, and apparently loves sundaes, if him going to the ice cream shop around the corner on Sundays is anything to go by.

Once again, he digresses. (And wonders in his taste in men, really.)

When he reaches the salon, and yes, it is a legitimate salon, he strides into the building, to the front desk, and says his name. The girl—Allison, if he remembers correctly—smiles beatifically at him and tells him that Stiles will be with him momentarily. 

He sits in one of the waiting chairs, checks his watch, phone, and email, all before Stiles is bounding out from the back. He’s a bit pink in the face, but that’s not unusual. Derek stands to greet him, and is led to the back.

Stiles is a bouncing ball of energy, and his voice is a bit choked when he asks if Derek can take his jacket off for the hair wash. Derek, obviously, complies. Stiles starts the water and Derek shuts his eyes.

He loves having his hair washed, he really does. The feel of Stiles’ fingers along his scalp, the blunt drag of nails and soothing massage. He lets out a low sigh. When Stiles is done the process of his hair cut, he’s trying very hard to start a conversation.

Derek wants to stop him and  _just ask him out_  but Stiles has a way with talking over anything he says, and jumping to different subjects, and eluding all attempts at reciprocating conversation. 

He’s very close to grabbing Stiles and yelling his ‘will you go on a date with me?’

He doesn’t, but that’s only because Stiles deflates and says, entirely too emotionless, “Your girlfriend is picking you up today?”

And Derek has to stare at Stiles in confusion, because  _girlfriend_ ,  _what_? He turns to the bay window and blinks at Erica, who is grinning entirely too largely, and waving cheerfully. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Stiles nearly throws himself back with his gasp. “What?”

Derek scratches at his chin and shrugs. “She’s my PA.”

Stiles is staring at him, hard. “Your PA?”

“Yes.” 

“Oh, my God!” he throws his hands into the air. “Are you  _serious_?” he drops his hands and stares, open-mouthed, at Derek.

Derek quirks an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“I thought…” he makes a face, gestures to the window dramatically and then scoffs, “I mean—well, she’s really attractive…” he made another face and gestured to him, “And so are you…” he stopped and waved his hand around to think of what he was going to say. “I just thought you were dating…” he finished lamely.

“Well, we’re not.”

“No, really, thanks for that update.” He seemed sarcastic, but there was a layer of sincerity there. He shifts from foot to foot. “And I’m saying this, even if it makes these appointments really awkward, and we can totally let you pick someone else if it’s too awkward for you—though that’d really suck, because I like washing your hair, and wow that’s creepy Stiles, just stop—but anyways, we can totally let you pick someone else, but do you, maybe, I don’t know, wanna maybe go on a date? Like, ice cream, or something? Because I can totally break my ‘sundaes only on Sundays’ rule.”

Derek stares, unsure of what was just said, but glances at the window again, where Erica’s looking less cheerful and more impatient. “Um…yes.”

“Wow, okay, that took a long time to answer—you don’t have to, and we can totally let someone else handle your appointments—Scott’s a great stylist for men, he’ll be happy to take you on as a customer, really, it’s fine,” he grinned, “Really, I’m just going to go die in the back.”

“Stiles.” Derek grimaced as Stiles froze. “I really,  _really_ , want to go on a date with you.” He can feel the stares and glances around quickly. Allison has her hands clapped over her mouth, trying to keep from bouncing on her feet excitedly. Another stylist—probably Scott, is staring at them with a rapt expression. 

“Whoa, really?”

Derek really has to wonder why Stiles is so surprised, but he nods nonetheless. “For a while now.”

“Wow, okay,” Stiles nods his head, confusion palpable. “Alright—I get off in an hour? Come back and we can go get ice cream?”

Derek grins and nods. “Alright, an hour.” He takes his card from Allison and leaves the salon.

Erica raises her eyebrow at him, and he’s sure he’s got the biggest grin on his face. It’s probably worrying her, deep down. “What happened?” her eyes widen as she puts two and two together. “You’ve got a date with him, don’t you?” she claps her hands excitedly when he nods. “This is perfect—what are you doing?” she asks as she circles his car.

“Ice cream.”

She nearly has a conniption. 


End file.
